Colors
by Ms Sticha
Summary: Colors have power over us and our emotions, especially when they are so deeply tied to specific events or people. A quick one-shot early in ME2 timeline.


The door to the human embassy slid open. Anderson was just visible, leaning over the balcony to watch the flurry of life below. He didn't move at the sound of footsteps, so Alenko cleared his throat gently. Anderson jumped slightly as he turned and made eye contact with the new arrival. It wasn't like the first human Councilor to be caught off guard. Something was clearly troubling him, but he wasn't the only one. Anderson smiled and gestured to the open chair next to the desk.

Kaidan had too much on his mind to sit. Instead, he walked over and leaned against the balcony rail – a movement so achingly familiar from a time before… before his life changed, that it was at once comforting and painful. With a deep breath, he decided to just talk – to get it out while it was fresh. It was something the doctors had been encouraging ever since the incident – the doctors Anderson insisted he see – so it was only fitting.

"I never thought much about color for a long time. I guess most kids don't. It always just something that's there." Kaidan paused, waiting for some sort of response, but there was none, so he continued. "Some clothes or toys were more eye-catching because of their color, but I didn't really have a favorite or anything. I didn't have any that I particularly hated, either. As I got a little older I noticed some people would say a certain color was only for boys or girls, and I thought they were letting me in on some big universal secret – that I had somehow lived my life wrong up until that point by liking or wearing those specific colors. So I changed my likes and dislikes based on those expectations. It didn't take long to realize how stupid it all was, though. Just because I liked a color didn't make me a girl. So I went back to the way things were and just lived my life with all the colors around me."

"That changed for me when I was at BAaT. The things that happened there changed me – eventually made me into the man I am today. Ever since then I've been drawn to the color blue. It just felt right, you know? It's the color of biotics, the color of an actual _part_ of me. It was something I tried to keep secret, to hide, but realized I would never be free from it, so I should embrace it. It was calming, soothing, conservative… but also a little sad. It fit _me_ – what I was and what I wanted to be. But, that wasn't my only motivation. It's also a constant reminder to remain in control. I wear a permanent reminder of the blood I spilled by losing my temper – Vyrnus' blood. That was the first life I ever took, and it was an accident. Blue is my reminder to remain calm, to keep myself under control, but also to be true to myself." Kaidan looked at the man now standing next to him. He wasn't sure what he expected, but Anderson merely nodded, acknowledging what had been said and encouraging him to continue.

"I never figured another color would affect me like that, that there would never be another set of circumstances so deeply tied to a color that it would forever alter my perception of it. I was wrong."

"I wasn't in the Alliance very long before I started to dread the color red. Red was blood, death. My first kill as a soldier left blood dripping from my hands, literally. He was an infiltrator, he just appeared out of the darkness right in front of me, and it was me or him… and I was faster. I still remember the shock as that slick warmth slid up my wrists. I don't remember much else about that mission, but I remember that. Red was anger, hatred, violence… and blood. It was everything I tried to avoid in my life, but was intrinsically tied to my job. So I came to hate it, but saw it everywhere. And then she appeared."

He couldn't say her name. The fact that he was speaking of her at all was a big step – one that he'd yet to really take up until that very moment. He had to continue, was driven to, but her name refused to cross his lips. It would be too painful.

"She changed my perception. She was as much red as I am blue, and I finally realized the beauty to that color. It was strength, determination, passion. Red grabs attention and demands respect without having to ask for it. And as I worked with her, watched her interact with everyone with the utmost care and respect if they deserved it, and outright contempt and anger if they earned it, I began to really appreciate the depth and duality of the color; it was the depth and duality of the woman. Red is anger, violence, wrath, rage… and strength, courage, leadership, determination… but also love, passion, sensitivity, and joy. And I found all of those with her. I finally felt as if I understood, and I came to love it all."

"And then she was gone… in a bright red explosion. I lost it all in that moment. I won't try to deny it, because I know you already knew. I saw the way you looked at me after the battle on the Citadel. I saw the pain in your eyes as you shook my hand at her memorial. You knew." Kaidan couldn't face the man, afraid to see the answer in his eyes.

"Ever since that moment the color red has nearly destroyed me. It seemed like every human woman on the Citadel colored her hair red after the battle, and the constant reminders after the Normandy…" Kaidan took a deep, shuddering breath. "It took a full year for me to be able to see anything of that color without a rush of feelings flooding through me – hope, fear, panic, and despair – but I got there. I finally succeeded in numbing myself, of disassociating the color with all those emotions… or so I thought. I was on my way here when it happened again. It was the first time in a long time, and I'm honestly still reeling."

"I saw a bright red head bobbing through the crowd, somehow moving with the flow without being swept away… as if they were secretly in control. Everything about the situation was so achingly familiar, down to the exact shade of red, that I almost passed your office by to follow… just in case, as if the last two years had just been some horrible nightmare that I finally awaken from."

Anderson watched the younger soldier carefully, his face not able to fully hide the sadness welling up deep within. He hated what he had to do, but there was no other way. He _did_ know about their history, and too much was at stake.

Kaidan saw the look and his face fell. He looked away, shaking his head. "Don't say it, Anderson; you're right. I'm being foolish. We both know it isn't possible. Besides, the hairstyle was all wrong. It was short and left the biotic amp exposed. We both know that was never her style. And the armor she wore had a bright red stripe down one arm. I could just make it out as she slid through the crowd. That was too flashy for her tastes." A soft, bitter laugh escaped his lips as he finally sat down gruffly. "Here I am talking like she's still around."

Anderson walked over and stood behind the plush chair. Rather than speaking, he laid one hand on Kaidan's shoulder and squeezed gently. There was nothing to say. Not right now. Both men sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts as the Citadel stirred with whispers of a return.

"Alenko, I have a mission that just came across my desk, and you're the only man for the job. I need you to ship out to Horizon immediately. I'll escort you to the ship myself." Anderson glanced briefly at the spot she stood just minutes before, now somehow emptier than ever without her presence. His heart ached, but he pushed it aside. "The ship's waiting. Let's go."


End file.
